Flu
by Kushie
Summary: Poor Tony He has the Flu and is sent to stay with Jack in Stillwater Story follows on from Quantum Mistake and the Grey Woods Beast Don't own NCIS or any of it's Char
1. Chapter 1

The Flu

By Kushie

I do not own NCIS: I do not own Anthony Dinozzo, L.J. Gibbs or any other team members.

Please understand that some English spellings and types of dialogue differ from the American ones.

Some of us put the letter 'U' in a lot more word endings. I'm sorry if you find this awkward

It's second nature to me. As is putting certain words, in front of the verb, instead of after

This story bears no relation to any of my other stories. It is set in a totally different Universe.

Warning Alternate Universe. Many Characters act out of Canon! Don't like don't read.

Chapter One.

"But Boss," Tony whined. He couldn't believe it. It didn't make sense. "It's just a little pollen allergy."

He tried to wheedle. As he saw his holiday, with the boys, going down the pan. Faster than an express train.

"Tony," Gibbs voice was firm. "This building has filtered air. There is no pollen in here."

"Michelle!" Tony clutched at straws. "That temp, sent up from the Secretarial Pool. It's her perfume. I'm reacting

against that." Gibbs raised his eyes to heaven.

"Tony!" he held onto his, rapidly diminishing, patience. "You don't have an allergy. You have the Flu!"

"Ah! Ah! Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!" Tony sneezed several time. Then he sniffed.

"Blow your nose!" Gibbs thrust a tissue at him. Abby always kept several boxes of the, balm impregnated,

paper hankies, in her lab. She said they were softer on her nose. Tony complied with the directive, then

he took off his special glasses and dabbed his watery eyes. Before again trying to dismiss his condition as nothing.

"It can't be the Flu," he insisted. "The Duckman has given me the Jab." He indicated his left arm. He's stuck

a needle in me. For every disease going, even Tennis Elbow." He looked round from the gurney. "You have,

haven't you? Go on! Tell him! I can't have the Flu."

The elderly M.E. toddled over from a nearby medicine cabinet. He was holding a beaker of water and a couple

of tablets. Tony eyed them. They looked big enough, to choke an elephant. But as he was desperate to get Ducky

on his side. He swallowed them without a murmur, then continued his argument. The good Doctor sighed and gently

patted his knee.

"Yes Tony! I did vaccinate you against the Flu. But even we Doctors know. The injections are, at best, only about

sixty percent effective. It's a preventative, not a guaranteed all round protector. There are always, going to be, some

people. For whom the injections just don't work. Gibbs shot Tony a triumphant leer.

"You've got the Flu! Just Like Tim, Ziva and Abby." Tony pouted. He knew what this meant. He was destined, for

a week's enforced bed rest. Under the watchful eye of Jackson Gibbs. Tim and Abby had been despatched out to

Stillwater two days before. Ziva had followed them, a few hours later. Now that was to be his fate.

So much for a week long Party. It was Spring break. He and three mates had planned, to head down to Florida.

To mingle with some pretty Senior College Co-eds.

"This is Probie's fault!" he groaned. "When I'm better? I am so gonna.."

"Gonna what?" Jethro's voice sharpened. Tony blushed. He hadn't realised, he'd spoken aloud

"Nothing boss!" he said quickly. Gibbs decided to let that matter drop_._

"_For now!"_ he thought. To Tony he now said. "You are the last of the team, to succumb Tony. With all of you out

sick. The Director has, had to call in a relief squad. So I'm not going to be needed. Vance has recommended I take

some Vacation time. Which means!" Tony shivered, at the gleam in his boss's eye. "You won't have to fly out to

Pennsylvania by yourself. You can ride home with me." Tony's mood grew even darker. As he contemplated a seven

hour journey with Gibbs. The World's, second, worst driver. Ziva had the dubious honour of being the World's worst.

Once Ducky had finished giving Jethro, a long list of specialist instructions, concerning Tony's treatment. He was ushered,

still coughing and sneezing, out to Gibbs' car. Thankfully! The Elephant sized Aspirin, Ducky had forced him, to gag down,

had eased his headache. But Tony was still griping. Although wisely under his breath. Gibbs was, in his opinion, far to free with his right hand.

They made a necessary stop at Tony's apartment, so he could grab some gear. Vinni his, half cat, objected to being put into

a pet carrier. But Gibbs insisted.

"The last time that blasted thing was in my car? It hacked up a furball, right in my lap, he scowled "Then it insisted on

lying along the Dash for three miles. I couldn't see a thing." At this Tony's mood lifted slightly as he recalled the incident.

"But Boss! It wasn't a real Furball. Just one of Abby's ribbons, he'd swallowed.

"It was wet, slimy and stank!" Gibbs growled. Noting Tony smile. "And just how can a robot, even produce slime? Let

alone the foul smelling gunk, he sprayed all over my pants?"

"Vinni is only partly mechanical," Tony stroked his adored pet/toy. "Don't you remember? What that Airforce, alien, guy

said? He's as much biological, as he is machine." Tony's grin widened and despite the lousy situation, cheeked. "Besides!

Your driving sure improved, when Vinni sat up front." Gibbs scowled and toed him up the backside.

"Watch that sauce boy. You are about to spend the next week at my mercy." Tony grinned at the empty threat. But then he

started coughing. Jethro immediately steered him to a chair and opened the bag of, Throat, Soothing, Lozenges. Ducky had

supplied. As he sucked the pastille, the coughing spasm began to subside. Tony moved the soother around in his mouth

"How is it, even Ducky's sweets taste like Cack?" Jethro raised an eyebrow then gave a sudden grin and countered with.

"How would you know what that tastes like? Sometimes I'm glad I never attended any fancy college. Listening to you and

all the weird, Frat pledges, you had to do." Tony had to give in. He shook his head and smiled. But suppressed the laugh,

that rose in his belly. He didn't want to start coughing again. Five minutes later with the last of Tony's things packed.

They were, almost ready, to embark for Stillwater. Gibbs noticed Tony checked three times, making sure he had his

special Amber topped staff and a dozen necessities for Vinni. The cat was still balking and refusing. To let Gibbs put him in

his travel basket. jthro hissed in pain, and sucked at the scratch on his palm. The cat's steel claws were very sharp. To

avoid any further delay, that would further, irk his boss. Tony begged

"What if I get in the back. Vinni will stay with me there."

"Yes! All right! I was going to suggest you lay down any way. Gibbs conceded

They got underway a few minutes later. Tony lay propped up on a cushion. That was wedged against the far side rear door, behind the driver's seat. Jethro tucked a thick quilt over him, then on the floor in the gap. That separated the front from the rear compartment. He tucked a box of tissues, a bottle of orange juice and Ducky's lozenges. Vinni, saved, from the

torture, of being caged. Curled up on the back window shelf, beside Tony's head.

He closed his eyes. Even with his special glasses and the window shades. The bright spring sunshine made his, sensitive

eyes ache. He sniffed and rubbed his runny nose along, the length of, his sleeve. Jethro tutted and pulled a paper hankie

from the box.

"Blow!" he ordered, holding it against Tony's nose. Blushing, he complied, Jethro discarded the soiled tissue, in a roadside

trash can. Before finally giving a sigh of relief and sliding into the driver's seat. Tony leaned back and shifted his torso downward, until his feet rested against the other door. Then he twisted his head sideways. So it rested on the supporting pillows. Jethro watched him in the rear view mirror, for a few seconds, then satisfied Tony was comfortable. He started the engine. While they were in town, Jethro kept to the speed limit. But! The moment he turned onto the Interstate, he stepped up the speed. Tony lay quiet for the first few miles, but eventually he complained.

"Put the Radio on Boss. This silence is scary."

"Silence is golden Dinozzo!"

"Only if you're dead? Please boss! I'm bored! I can't read, and every time I try to sleep I wake up sneezing." His voice

sounded so woeful and pathetic, that Jethro gave in. But after, only another minute Tony was again whinging.

"Blimey Boss! What sort of Music is this?"

"This Dinozzo, is Folk Music."

"Old Folk's Music more like." Tony spat. "Come on boss! Humour me. I'm sick."

"If you don't quit complaining, I'm more likely to smother you." Gibbs threatened. But he did change the station. To one playing more contemporary tunes. Inwardly loathing, what sounded like a dreadful cacophony to him? But it cheered

Tony up. He actually managed to refrain from moaning again, for a full forty minutes. Jethro counted it as an all time

record. But, knew it couldn't last.

"I'm hungry," the voice whined from the back. "When are we stopping for lunch?"

"Not for another hour!"

"An hour? I'll have starved to death by then."

"No you won't!" Then Tony, who had partially, sat up spotted.

"Look Boss! There's a sign for a Truck Stop."

"Yeah! Stinky Sam's Salmonella Special." Gibbs sailed past the diner, without slowing a micron. Tony thought fast.

"I gotta take a leak!"

"No you haven't!""

"Truly Boss! I gotta go!" Tony pleaded. As he watched the diner receding out of the back window. Jethro sighed

and pulled over. Tony squinted. He could just about see the diner in the distance behind.

"I can't walk all that way. I'm sick. You'll have to turn around." But Jethro just pointed to a bush at the side of the road.

"I'm not going behind a bush," Tony instantly protested. "Please Gibbs It's only half a mile." Jethro again pointed to the bushes. Tony tried blackmail.

"Ducky said I had to keep warm." Gibbs refused to budge.

"You got to go or not?"

"Not!" Tony admitted defeat and slumped back against his pillows.

"That's what I figured," Jethro almost chuckled. He put the car back in gear and the journey resumed. Tony sulked in

the back. Jethro just ignored his grumbles and derogatory mutters.

But! When they finally did pull into a car park, an hour later. Tony was actually glad. Jethro had made him wait. The small town restaurant was clean and bright. Tony eyed the pretty waitress who served them, then forgot her. As he sampled his

food. It was delicious and freshly cooked.

"This is great boss! Really, really great!" Tony enthused, his mouth full of the dreamiest Steak Pie, he'd ever eaten. Jethro grinned and leaned forward.

"Next time remember Gibbs knows best!"

"I will! I will!" Tony nodded his head, as he shovelled a knifeful of creamed, mashed, potato into his mouth. "And use your fork!" Jethro shuddered. "God! Who ever taught you table manners." Tony blushed and picked up the required utensil.

"Sorry! Sort of a left over from Military School. If you didn't clear you plate fast enough, there. Chances were! Someone would spit in your dinner." Gibbs scowled. He'd never approved of boarding schools. That Tony had been forced to

endure such an institution, made his blood boil. A small part of Gibbs still wished. The Minotaur/Unas-monster

had chomped on Dinozzo senior. He squashed down the desire. Choosing instead to savour the, Oh! So! Perfect Coffee,

the restaurant served. He always stopped in the small town When he came home on vacation. Even though it was

off his route and added an extra thirty minutes to his journey. "_It's worth it_!" He told himself, every time he visited.

They lingered in the cafe for a while. But soon Tony's affliction, coupled with his odd appearance, began to attract nervous stares. Jethro decided! It was time to move on.

The meal had done Tony some good. It had sated his hunger and filled his belly, making him drowsy. He slept for over

two hours. Waking. just as the sun began to set.

"Not far now," Jethro nodded to Tony in his mirror. But at the same noticing his flushed face and sweaty brow.

"Are you sure your Dad isn't going to mind another Sicko, being foisted on him?" Tony's voice had a worried note and rose slightly. Jethro knew it was from anxiety. Having been neglected and pushed aside, by his uncaring father. Tony was

forever worrying, that he wasn't wanted. It was a quirk that bothered Jethro.

"No!" He reassured. "I reckon Dad's going to enjoy having you over, the most."

Tony thought back to Christmas. He remembered how spoilt and loved he'd felt. It was a feeling he often recalled and cherished. Those few days had been the happiest of his life. A sign loomed out of the gathering twilight. It read:-

"Stillwater! 3 Miles." Tony's spirits lifted a little. Although he felt like hell.

"Yeah! I have the flu!" he sneezed and coughed at the same time. Choking, slightly on his own snot. Jethro frowned.

He loved all his NCIS kids. Most people, even Ducky, thought Abby was his favourite.

But secretly! Tony would always hold, that special place, in his heart.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

The Flu

By Kushie

I do not own NCIS: I do not own Anthony Dinozzo, L.J. Gibbs or any other team members.

Apologies to all of you. Who struggle with my appalling grammar

This story bears no relation to any of my other stories. It is set in a totally different Universe.

Warning Alternate Universe. Many Characters act out of Canon! Don't like don't read.

Chapter Two

Jethro took the back road into Stillwater. Much to Tony's relief, it wasn't long. Before he was pulling into

the yard, behind 'Gibb's Mercantile.' Jackson was expecting them. But not the, newly animated, Vinni.

He recognised the toy. Just not what it had become.

"Jethro? Is that?" Jack pointed to the cat, scratching it's mark. On his rear screen door.

"It's complicated. I'll explain later." Jackson nodded then became business like.

"Welcome Tony lad!" He patted the clearly exhausted SFA on the back. Then to Gibbs said. "I've made

him up a bed, in your old room, Jethro. Tim's already settled in there. But there's plenty of room for a second.

He gently steered Tony inside. Vinni was snuffling about. Investigating this new territory. In much the same way,

a real cat would. Jack again raised a puzzled eyebrow. But as Jethro had said, he'd explain later. Jack ignored

it. Turning instead to take Tony's coat.

"Thanks Grandpa!" He was so knackered. He automatically lapsed back into the same familiarity. He'd adopted

over Christmas. Jack beamed at him. Glad he didn't feel awkward.

"Let me show upstairs. So you and Vinni can get bedded in." Jethro was about to go and unload the car.

He half grinned as his dad, added. "Once you're tucked up safe. I'll bring you up a nice hot mug of Honey and

Lemon." Tony half hopeful, begged.

"With a large tot of rum?" Jackson also remembered Christmas. He glanced to Jethro, who had paused in the

doorway. He shook his head and calmly but firmly said.

"No!" Tony inwardly groaned. He had hoped his boss had already gone out to the car. He pouted then sneezed

twice and sniffed. "Tissue!" Jethro ordered. Before Tony raised his arm. To wipe his sleeve across his face.

He fumbled in his pocket for one.

Tim peeped out, from under a mound of blankets. As Tony was led, into his room.

"I'm afraid You've got a room mate Tim," Jack breezed.

"Dat's Okai, Jack!" Tim rasped. Tony noted his sore, red, nose and puffy eyes.

"Dony!" Abby shuffled out of a second door way, across the landing. "Dot moo as welf!" Like Tim's? Her speech

was slurred by a blocked nose. Jack tutted and scolded.

"What are you doing out of bed, Missy? Back now!" Abby retreated. Jack returned his attention to his newest

patient. "Right son! Bathroom's opposite! Yellow door," he pointed across the hall way. "You go ahead and get

into your Jarmies. I'm going to fetch that hot lemon." Tony stared at him blankly

"Jarmies?" he echoed. Jack frowned.

"You know! Jarmies, P.J.s, Pyjamas!" Comprehension dawned on Tony.

"Oh! Eh! Um! I sort of don't have any. At home I kind of well Um! Sleep nude." he blushed. Jackson eyed him a

trifle crossly then asked.

"Is that why you only wore your shorts at Christmas?" Tony was crimson faced. "Well! You can't get away with that

here. There's girlies present." He gave another of his, by now famous, tuts. "I've still got a lot of things, left over.

From when Leroy was a teenager. You're about the same size, as he was back then." Tony, virtually, died from embarrassment. He heard Tim give a coughy sort of laugh, from beneath his quilt. But! Jackson wasn't

taking no for an answer. Before long, Tony was suitably attired in a, dark red, pair of pyjamas. He was just leaving

the bathroom, when. He saw Jack climbing the stairs with two steaming mugs. Tony's eyes glinted, mischievously.

He lingered behind the yellow door. Until he heard the older man descend the stairs. Then he crept across to his

allotted room. He gave a grin. Tim was asleep He hadn't seen or heard Jack enter, with the hot drinks. Tony leaned

forward and sniffed the one, nearest to Tim then the other. As he'd suspected. Tim's had a faintly alcoholic whiff to it.

His did not. Tim's was a darker colour too. Casually, quietly, Tony swapped the mugs, then lifted the dark one up.

A second later a large hand arrested it's ascent towards his lips. Jethro took the mug away from Tony and slapped him

firmly across the back of the head. Tony winced. Okay the 'Gibbs Slap' wasn't as hard as normal. But it still stung.

"You know better than that Tony." his boss scolded. Tony grimaced. He should have realised. That the girls would be

getting hot drinks too. Clearly Gibbs had been in their room. "Get into bed!" Jethro pointed. His face stern.

Tony thought it prudent to obey. In fact! He was actually relieved to do so. The Cold Cure tablets, he'd taken earlier.

At the Restaurant had worn off and he was starting, to feel really lousy. The bed he was directed to, was pre-warmed

and right next to a radiator. It was a blessed relief to snuggle his, aching, head, into a soft pillow and close his eyes.

Jethro prodded him. Tony sat up to drink the Medicinal beverage. Conscious that his boss now watched him. He

drained the cup and handed it back to him. Jethro reached out and affectionately ruffled his hair.

"Try and get some sleep." Tony gave coughed a little, then slid under the covers. Vinni hopped up beside him, imparting

further comfort. Tony's eyelids fluttered and he succumbed. To the, sleeping pills, in the hot lemon.

Jethro gave a satisfied sigh and then went downstairs to talk to his father. There was much he needed to know.

He grinned at his father, as he accepted the steaming coffee from him

"He did exactly what we expected. Tried to swap his mug, for Tim's." Jackson again tutted.

"So he's still not allowed Alcohol then?" Jethro shook his head.

"But! I'm sure he is drinking. When he thinks he's not being watched."

"So tell me about Vinni?" The two older men were settling into easy chairs, in Jackson's back

parlour." Jethro inhaled

"Firstly! You can never repeat any of this, Dad. It's Classified Level Nine."

"You know you can trust me Leroy!" Jack said solemnly. Jethro took a long gulp of coffee. Then launched

in to an account of the Grey Woods mission. Jackson listened in silence, until Jethro finished his tale. Then remarked.

"That's one hell of a story."

"Yeah!" Jackson frowned.

"What about Tony's father? Did he back off? When you slapped him with the court order?"

"No! So far! He's lodged three appeals," Gibbs grinned. "After the latest. The Judge threatened to Gaol him, for

contempt. If he bought another suit?" Jackson also grinned

"So! That 's the end of it. Tony's cat and staff are safe now?"

"Nope!"

"No?"

"Two days after the final hearing. Tony's apartment was broken into." Jack's eyes widened in horror. Jethro just grinned. "Dinozzo Snr. is an idiot. I'd anticipated him trying something along those lines." he took another sip of coffee then

continued. "There is nothing, that Tony cares more about, than Vinni. He will die. Before he lets anything happen

to the creature. I'm not ashamed to say. I used that against him."

"How!"

"I made Tony move into a Navy House. One that's on a, Security Patrolled site. Ten minutes from NCIS." Jack chuckled

"I bet his father wasn't expecting that."

"No! And his hired Goons got one hell of a shock. I had two, rather tough, Lady Petty Officers take over the lease.

On Tony's old place. The second, Senior's, creeps tried to break in. The ladies, began screaming Rape! The Goons

are now in Federal lock up." Jack laughed. "It gets better," Jethro carried on. "A day later, Senior tried to enter NCIS.

But I'd had his clearance wiped as well. He's now got two restraining orders hanging over him. A third and he's also

going to find himself. Banged up in a six by six cell." Jethro laid his empty mug on the table. "The thing is; even if his

lackeys had succeeded in getting into Tony's apartment? They wouldn't have found anything."

"Why not?"

"Tony is besotted with Vinni. He never goes anywhere without him or his staff. Although Vinni stays with Abby

When we're out at crime scenes." Jethro gave grin. "The damn cat thinks NCIS is it's own personal playground.

Not a day goes by, when I don't open a drawer, or cabinet. To find it curled up snoozing." Jack smiled at the anecdote Although the knowledge of Tony's ancestry bothered him. An image of the avaricious father haunted him, as he climbed

into his own bed that night. But then he relaxed. Jackson knew Jethro would never let any harm come to Tony.

Jethro was also preparing for bed. As was his way. He bunked, downstairs on an old Couch. He was just dozing off.

When he heard it. From far away! A long monotonous chanting. Jethro shivered. He knew, what the sound portended.

The Cult was active, again .

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

The Flu

By Kushie

I do not own NCIS: I do not own Anthony Dinozzo, L.J. Gibbs or any other team members.

Apologies to all of you who struggle with my appalling grammar

This story bears no relation to any of my other stories. It is set in a totally different Universe.

Warning Alternate Universe. Many Characters act out of Canon! Don't like don't read.

Chapter Three

Tony came awake suddenly. Vinni was standing up on the bed. His fur was erect and he was

hissing furiously. Tony felt a sense of foreboding. He reached out and stroked his half cat.

"What's wrong fella?" he whispered. So as not to wake Tim. Then he loudly sneezed.

Luckily Tim was heavily doped up with both, Cold Cure pills, and Rum. He didn't even stir.

Tony was about to lay back down, when he heard something strange. Despite his aching head

and feverish, bodily, tremors. Tony slid from his warm couch, and padded bare foot across to the

window. Vinni mewed fearfully. He jumped from the bed and scuttled across to his master.

Where upon, he began to sinuously wind himself, in, out, and around Tony's legs.

Just because he was sick, didn't mean his common sense was dulled. Tony knew better than to overtly

open the curtains. Instead he slid to the side of the window and peeped. Through a crack between

the drapes and the wall. What he observed made goose bumps break out all over his body. Below in the

street, marched a long column of cowled figures. Every third one held aloft, a burning torch. Much like

the ones Tony had seen in, medieval, films. He shivered and not just from fever. His stomach tightened.

He didn't need to be told. That the figures below were not going to a Church Picnic. Whatever their

intent was? Tony was sure, it would have a nefarious conclusion. The tail end of the marching lines,

disappeared around the corner. At the far end of the long street. Tony released the breath he was holding.

He picked up Vinni, who seemed to have calmed too, and slid back into bed.

"I've got a fever," he said to his pet. "It's well known! People with high temperatures often hallucinate.

What I just saw wasn't real. None of this is. I'm dreaming and you are too."

He, so managed, to convince himself It was a dream. That when he awoke the next morning

He readily believed his own assertions and made no mention of what he'd witnessed. Ignoring an outstanding

Gibbs rule. That he was always to report any unusual dreams or visions. He was just about to pad out to the

bathroom to do the necessary. When Tim poked his head out from under his blankets.

"Dony! Dou gotteh puz sum bejamaz on. Member?" He coughed twice The effort of speaking made his, sore,

throat tighten. Tony frowned as he tried to decipher Tim's garbled message. Realization dawned! He'd got so

hot in the night He'd wriggled out of the required clothes. He quickly sidled back to his bed and rummaged

beneath it. A second later his hand, yanked out. A very crumpled and screwed up shirt. The pants followed.

He got them on just in time. Jethro opened the door and stuck his head round.

"The boys are awake Dad," he yelled down the stairs. Then! He entered the room, with a couple of thermometers.

Tony eyed the one, his boss held out to him. A plan was starting to form in his mind. A way to escape.

There was still time to make it to Florida. In time for Spring Break. All he had to do was convince Grandpa Jack

and Gibbs. That he was fine. Make them believe, he didn't have the Flu. He was just suffering from some sort of

allergy, and. He smothered his smile The thermometer could provide the evidence. So when Jethro stepped

forward. To slide the instrument under his tongue. Tony meekly opened his mouth. Tim of course never complained

or balked. He had already submitted to having his fever measured.

"Both of you, keep the thermometers securely under your tongues," Jethro instructed. "I'll be back in a few

minutes to read them." He walked out. The second Tony heard, his boss, return to the lower storey. He pulled

the thin tube from his mouth and leapt from his bed.

"Dony?" Tim struggled sit up. "Whar dou gozin? Der boss sezd do zmay in bed."

Tony ignored him. He scooted, across the landing, on his toes. Hopeful! That his passage wasn't loud enough, to

alert those below. Once inside the bathroom, he flicked on the cold water tap and shoved. The mouth end, of the thermometer, under the icy stream. He left he door slightly ajar. So he would hear any one approaching. That way,

if he was caught? He could, pretend, he was just taking a leak. Unfortunately! It wasn't just Tony's nose that was

blocked. The rising infection had deadened his hearing. Down below, Jackson glanced up as he heard a creak.

"Sounds like one of them is on the move?" he remarked.

"I'll go and check. If it's Abby or Ziva? They might need help, getting to the head."

As he ascended the stairs, Gibbs glanced into the boys' room. It was the first door on the landing. He immediately

saw the vacant bed and saw, a worried flush, creep over Tim's face. Jethro instantly knew! Dinozzo was up to no

good. Gibbs had long since learned how to move stealthily. After all, he'd been a Marine Sniper. You never saw

one! You never heard one! The only trace one had visited, was his handiwork, left behind. Jethro trod softly.

Oh! So very softly. Quieter than an Earthworm, was he. He peered through the crack, in the bathroom door. Then

almost smiled. Anthony Dinozzo was so predictable.

Tony never even heard the door open. One minute he was holding the 'Thermie' under the cold tap and the next.

He was reeling from a stinging slap.

"Uh!" he gasped. At the same time, Gibbs snatched the Fever Monitor from under the cooling water.

"Bed now!"

"But Boss! Please! Have a heart? It's Spring Break." Jethro raised an eyebrow then turned Tony, to face the mirror.

"Tony! Take a good hard look at yourself. How many nubile, young, Co-eds? Do you think, are going to want, to

get near you? You look like crap. They're going to turn tail and run." Tony sniffed and rubbed away a tear. Trying

to pretend it was caused by the Flu. Then blustered

"I could chase them!"

"You have ten seconds to get back into bed, with this under your tongue," he handed him the Thermometer. "Or I'll go

and find one designed for the other end." Tony paled at the implication, grabbed the instrument and fled. Jethro

shook his head, at the retreating, miscreant, then went to check on the girls.

Ziva was wearing a blue pair of cotton pyjamas and matching dressing gown. She was sitting up. Jethro winced at her

hacking cough. But seeing the bottle of linctus, on the bedside cabinet. Guessed his father had it in hand. He turned his attention to Abby. She was teary eyed and looking, decidedly, sorry for herself. With her right hand, she dabbed at her,

raw, nose, with a purple hankie. Her left arm was wrapped around Bert. The soppy, Farting, Hippo, he'd bought her

For her Birthday, many years earlier. Jethro mused. That she was as devoted to the toy as Tony was to Vinni. Both

things he'd bought and both were,dearly, loved by their recipients. He heard a noise behind him and glancing round, gave

an exasperated sigh.

"Dad! I said I'd bring them up," Jackson was wobbling in, with two steaming bowls on a tray. Jethro took it from him

and set it down on the cabinet. Noting that a second tray was, decked beneath, the first. Gibbs lifted off the first bowl of

porridge and passed it to Ziva. Whose coughing spasm had subsided. On her side of the small table top, he put a glass

of fresh orange juice. Laying a second on Abby's side. As he passed her, her breakfast bowl. He noted, the liberal

sprinkling of brown sugar and syrup. That was already melting into the nourishing cereal. Jackson took, the lower tray,

into the boys' room. Tim smiled, appreciatively. Tony did not! He shuddered in abhorrence. He'd hated porridge, as

a kid. He was not about to eat it as an adult.

"My throat's sore I can't swallow," he tried

"There! There son!" Jackson soothed. "A nice, big dollop, of Grandpa's special molasses and sugar, will make it slide

down soft. Over that nasty, bugged up, throat of yourn." Tim, raised an eyebrow, at the way Jackson spoke to Tony.

Yes! Gibbs' Dad had been, caring and kind, to him and the girls. But he was different with Tony. Even gentler! Plus, there

was the whole Grandpa thing? From the first time he'd met the Senior Gibbs, Tim had called him Jack. So had Tony, the

last time, they'd been down in Stillwater. But now! Tim suspected that something had changed, because Tony called

Jack Grandpa in return. He guessed it had happened during the Christmas holidays. Jethro peeped in.

"Everything okay, Dad?"

"Yes! Leroy!" the older man, smiled round. "Tim's temperature is still raised and I'm thinking Tony's is going to follow it

up. But! They're both going to be fine. So long as they stay in bed and keep warm?" Tony inwardly groaned.

His long, awaited and much anticipated, holiday was shot to pieces. Then Vinni crawled out from under the bed.

Where he'd been investigating, a very interesting smell and an even more tempting hole. Jackson crouched and patted the

cat, then he glanced up at Tony.

"Does he need feeding?"

"Zot weally. Buz zif dou moffer 'im zum fizh or shnicken. Hez'll shnoff it stwait donz." Jethro noted. Tony's speech was starting to slur, like the others. He grinned to himself, as he walked downstairs. To help himself to another mug of his

father's coffee.

"Spring Break indeed! Honestly!" Leaning against the counter, to drink his third cup of the day. His grinned widened

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

The Flu

By Kushie

I do not own NCIS: I do not own Anthony Dinozzo, L.J. Gibbs or any other team members.

Apologies to all of you who struggle with my appalling grammar

This story bears no relation to any of my other stories. It is set in a totally different Universe.

Warning Alternate Universe. Many Characters act out of Canon! Don't like don't read.

Chapter Four

Tony hated having the flu. His head ached, his nose was sore and constantly dripping. His throat felt like

a gravel path, over grown with thorn bushes

"Dis ish all dor Fwault Dim!" he griped for the upteenth time. "Dou've wuined Sming Bwake."

"Shaderupz* Dony!" Tim moaned back. "I ash goz der vershtd eadache zefer." Tony didn't

"Fhen Ise weels bwettr? I ish gonna gwue* dou, Gwue dou, der eferyfing in der woffice," he growled

"Don't dou fink dou iss a vit oldk ver Sming Bwake?" Tim snorted back.

"Jesd coz dou nefer went Mcgweek.." Tony scowled. He hated it! When he was told he was past the age.

For doing something fun. He sat up and, ignoring the way the room lurched sideways. Slid from his bed.

Grabbing one of his pillows, he stalked across the room and walloped Tim with it. Mcgee had turned over

and so didn't see him coming. The sudden assault took him by surprise and made him sneeze. But then he

snatched up his own pillow and smacked Tony right back. Within seconds the two men were trading blows.

In between sneezing, coughing, and trading slurred insults.

Puzzled by the strange noise. Abby and Ziva crept in from next door. They began to laugh. Which

aggravated Ziva's cough. Which in turn, had the unfortunate consequence, of alerting the two older men

downstairs.

"What is going on in here?" Jethro suddenly roared. His voice silenced the melee! Abby and Ziva scooted.

For the relative safety of their room. Jethro had his hands on his hip. Tim lowered his pillow A guilty red

flush stained his pale face. Then he pointed

"He stwarted it. 'E hit me wiv hiss billow firsh!" Jethro looked round at Tony. Tim pushed his advantage.

"Anz 'e ses 'e ish gonna Gwue stuff der me." Jethro raised an eyebrow at Tony. He blushed.

"Der Mcgweek deswerfes it. E wuined myz vacafion. I vas rooking fobawd do ish vorwefa."

Jethro took a firm stance.

"I don't care who started it or why. You are not at the office now. You are guests in my father's house and will

damn well behave." He glared at both boys. "I don't care how ill you are? If I hear another sound, out of either

of you." his voice hardened. " You'll both be marching out back, to the woodshed." Tony sensed it wasn't an idle

threat. He leapt back into bed and under his quilt. Seeking protection from his furious boss. Jethro gave one final

glare then stalked out. Beyond his father stood grinning. Jethro shook his head.

"Please tell me! I was never that bad."

"Sorry son! I'm afraid you were." Gibbs had to laugh as well. His boys were certainly full of it. Even when they

were sick.

"Why can't they be like the girls?" He asked his father. Abby and Ziva were co-operating nicely. Sharing magazines,

talking encouragingly and helping each other, through the nasty. Softly chortling the two minders returned to their

coffees and the morning papers. Tim almost crying. climbed back into his bed. Griping under his breath

"Tony's swuch child. He dwid stwart it." He pulled the covers up around his chin and snivelled at the wall.

Tony shivered and snuggled closer to Vinni. The cat seemed to sense his misery, and mewed softly. Silence descended

and reigned for a couple of hours. Just after ten! Jackson entered with mugs of warm buttermilk and a two sets

of cold cure pills. He made no mention of the earlier argument. He acted as if nothing had occurred.

"How are we both feeling?" He asked breezily. Tony overcame the urge to snap at the old man. He didn't deserve it.

He was always kind to him. Jack walked over to Tim first. Which irked Tony. Jack felt Tim forehead. "I must say you

boys are really suffering," he plumped Tim's pillow then turned his attention to Tony. "Oh dear! Your quilt fallen has off again." Tony didn't say he'd shoved it off because he was annoyed. Especially As ten seconds after, he'd started to

shiver and regretted the act. He'd also been too cold to reach out and pick it up. Plus of course Tim would have laughed

at him. Tony's only consolation was that Tim was as ill as he was. Jack retrieved the quilt and tucked it back over Tony.

"I'll bring you up a nice hot water bottle. That'll drive the nasty old chills from your bones." Tim instantly begged.

"I ish fewy cold tooz gwandzpa!" Tony sat up in fury, as Tim called Jack by his special name. But then Jack patted

the 'Probie's' blanket gently.

"Of course you can have a bottle Tim. But you just call me Jack lad." Tony relaxed and lay back smiling. Only he was allowed the Grandpa privilege. Tim scowled as Jack left.

"Spwoiled git!" he snuffled at Tony.

"Pwobie!" Tony spluttered back. He'd started coughing, as a result, of trying talk too much.

Jethro bought up the hot water bottles. He had four in all. Inwardly he mused! That it was a good job, his father had a

lot of spare stock in his store room. Of course, he had already paid him for the extra comforts. Tony was extremely

grateful for the towel wrapped warmer. Vinni appreciated it too. He was buried under Tony's quilt his head resting just

below the lip of the pillow. Jethro eyed Tim and then Tony. He didn't speak But! His dark eyes held the threat. A threat

neither of them wanted to face. Abby and Ziva were doubly grateful, for the cold banishing bottles. Jethro appraised them.

Of the four. Abby actually seemed to be faring the best. Although she simpered and played up to him. For extra coddling. Coddling she got. Jethro hated to see his kids suffering. If he could eleviate, even a small part of it, with a cuddle. Then

he was happy to oblige.

Jackson didn't just have new stock. He had piles of old newspapers and magazines. Stacked up in one corner. They

were technically awaiting collection. By a recycling company. But in an effort to prevent any further, boredom induced, squabbles. He carried several boxes up to the sick rooms. Tony was asleep, but Tim eagerly made a grab for three

computer titles. Abby and Ziva already had a pile they'd ploughed through and were glad of the newer ones. Jethro

returned the used, to the recyc pile.

Tony woke just as his 'Grandpa' entered with a lunch tray. Despite feeling grim, Tony viewed the tantalising bowl of

Chicken Soup with relish. Tim did not.

"I'se a Vegnetarizan!" He wailed, his words even more distorted, by the disease.

"I know that lad!" Jack patted his head and took a metal lid off a different bowl. Tim's soup was a thick Noodle and

Bean Broth. That was as nourishing as Tony's Chicken. He wished his blocked nose hadn't deadened his taste buds.

Tony remembered Jack's culinary excellence from Christmas and was sad. That this time, he couldn't savour. What he

knew, was probably the best tasting Chicken Soup, in the galaxy? The sleep had actually improved Tony's mood a little.

Once the lunch bowls had been emptied and removed. He reached a hand out for some magazines. Jethro had sorted

out the sport and movie ones for him and the more intellectual subjects for Tim. He was unaware he'd made a tiny error.

Some of the periodicals were aimed at enthusiasts of the Paranormal. Gibbs had laid them aside for Abby. But had,

accidently, put a couple in Tony's pile. It was mid afternoon before Tony reached the fourth magazine down in his

stack. He frowned at the title.

"Fortean Times? That's more Abby's thing." He was about to lay it to one side. When a small photo, in the lower corner

of the cover page, caught his eye. The picture of the cowled figure reminded him of his dream. His curiosity was piqued. Tony retrieved the mag and hiding it from Mcgee, in case he remarked on it. Rolled over onto his right side and opened

the booklet, to the index page. For most of the afternoon, Tony read in silence. After a while Tim grew puzzed.

Twice he asked Tony what he was reading. But his, normally vocal, partner ignored him. He had discovered something.

He was reading about a local legend. Local to Stillwater, but with tendrls, that stretched across the States.

Spreading a dark, evil, pall. Over many, rural towns and villages

TBC

A/N Some of the slurred speech might be confusing. So! I've aster'd a few of the words and included translations

* Shaderupz* Shut up! *Gwue* Glue! *vorwefa* Forever!


	5. Chapter 5

The Flu

By Kushie

I do not own NCIS: I do not own Anthony Dinozzo, L.J. Gibbs or any other team members.

Apologies to all of you, who struggle with my appalling grammar

This story bears no relation to any of my other stories. It is set in a totally different Universe.

Warning Alternate Universe. Many Characters act out of Canon! Don't like don't read.

Chapter Five

Tony eyed the tray, his boss, had laid across his lap. He hadn't even wanted to sit up. He certainly didn't feel like

eating. His throat was raw. It hurt him, to swallow. There was no way in Hell, he'd ever manage to choke down.

What ever the concoction in front of him was? Tony knew Jackson would have carefully prepared it. Under

normal circumstances, it would probably, taste delicious. It didn't make any difference. He couldn't face it.

Tony glanced sideways.

Tim had already finished his dinner and laid his cleaned plate, on the floor. He now appeared to be sleeping.

Tony, as quietly as he could, pushed his tray aside and slid out of bed. His heart raced, as he lifted his plate, from

the tray and tip toed towards, the door. He peeped out. The landing was deserted. Silence reigned! He ventured

forward. It was only, ten feet, to the head. Then he froze. Vinni mewed a warning and he sensed a presence

behind him. Fearing the worst, he inhaled, then bravely looked round.

Ziva had emerged from her bedroom, also with a full plate, in hand. Tony understood. She couldn't eat either.

He took her dish, softly croaking

"Kepz watsh!"* Ziva gave a nod. He disappeared through the yellow door. Once in the large, bathroom. Tony

pulled a length of toilet tissue, from the roll on the wall. Scrunching it up, he used it. To wipe both plates clean.

Scraping, the unwanted food down the pan. Then he flushed, waiting a few seconds. To ensure all the dumped was

obliterated. Satisfied that no evidence, of his crime, remained. He hurried back to Ziva. She mouthed her thanks, then

pointed to the blue patterned plate. Tony remembered his was red. He gave her the blue. Then the two conspirators

parted. Each returning to their respective beds. Tony placed his cleaned plate on his tray, putting both on the floor,

at the side of his bed. He climbed back beneath and released a relieved sigh. The journey, although short, had taxed

him greatly. It was a, glorious, feeling. To lay down again.

As he rolled over onto his side, his side. Tony noted Tim was still asleep. When his boss came to collect their trays, a

few minutes later. He feigned the same state. Jethro didn't even suspect he was faking. Tony did actually sleep a little

Over the following hour.

At nine. Jackson came up with fresh, glasses of water. To help them through the night. He handed Tony, his now regular,

couple of pills. But as soon as he turned his back To give a similar dose to Tim. Tony hid them under his pillow. Jackson turned back. He saw exactly what Tony intended. He was just lowering his glass. Giving the appearance that he had

swallowed the pills. Jack patted his arm.

"Good lad!" He made sure Tim had taken his, then moved to the doorway. "Good night boys. Sleep well! Don't be

shy. If you feel worse later? You must call, for me or Leroy," he switched out the light. Tim and Tony laid back down. Although Tim griped Tony was keeping him awake.

"Doze billows ish pumped to deafz. Ray still. I ish twying to swreep." Tony ignored him and rolled over. But now!

He didn't sleep. He lay awake waiting. He heard 'Grandpa' Jack come to bed. Gradually the house grew still.

His time had come. It was now or never. He wanted some more Paranormal magazines. He couldn't come right out and

ask for them. Tony wasn't stupid. That sort of request, would instantly make his boss suspicious. He would guess Tony

had, had a vision. He hadn't reported. The last thing Tony needed was a long lecture, about the seriousness, of his Albino

condition. He got enough of those from Ducky. His thought's changed, back to his desire.

He had earlier heard his Boss and Jack discussing the magazines. They were old stock, being stored, in the Jack's small warehouse. This wasn't Tony's first visit to Stillwater. He'd been before, while investigating a case. The whereabouts of

store room were known to him. But! He'd learned something new this time. By listening, to the footsteps, of the two immune.

Tony had sussed the fourth step down, from the landing, creaked.

He mentally thanked, the unknown ancestor. Whose genes had gifted him with long legs. Holding tightly to the banister, he stepped down two steps. Adroitly avoiding the dodgy one. Tony paused for a second, considering the consequences.

If he got caught. He suspected they'd be dire.

He felt a cough rising in his chest. A memory from Boarding School plays helped. Back then, he'd been a stage hand.

The directing master, had taught him to exhale. To prevent a cough, that could distract the Actors on stage. He used the technique now. Struggling not to inhale, until the urge, to hack had passed. Once it was gone, Tony pressed onward.

The carpeted stairs gave way to a long icy passage. To Tony it was a rewarding sensation, as he was burning up. The cold

air, momentarily eased his discomfort. Enabling him to continue his mission. He needed the Magazines.

The article he'd read, had been:-

Part One of Five. Some where in his fever racked brain, was the certainty. That he needed to read, the whole story.

He had reached the rear of the Mercantile. He groped his way along a second, shorter, corridor, mentally trying to recall,

his healthier visits. From the deep recess of his mind he dragged up the knowledge. The warehouse was the second to

last door, before the kitchen. His nails felt the frame of the first entrance.

"Parlour!" Tony inwardly said to himself. From this verified point, he patted his way along the wall, Until he was sure.

he was outside the correct entrance. He fumbled for the handle. Then! He was in! Closing the door behind him, he slid his

left palm down the flocked paper. His fingers touched plastic. He'd found and flicked the switch. Then blinked several times

as the room was flooded with intense light.

"Damn!" he swore. "Stupid!" he'd forgotten his protective glasses. He squinted against the intensity of the bulb.

Suddenly!

He felt something brush against him. His heart and stomach changed places. Looking down, his fear evaporated. Vinni was winding in and out between his legs. Tony leaned over and fondled his ears. Making his odd pet purr. It occurred to Tony,

that Vinni could lead him safely back upstairs. But first! He had to get. What he had risked so much for?

During the long hours he'd waited. Tony had made plans, to minimise, the danger of discovery. He crossed the room

to the piles of neatly stacked periodicals. First seeking out ones related to Films and Theatre. Choosing five at random, he removed their covers. Hiding the stripped innards in the centre of other piles. Once he had his blinders. He searched for

the dated Fortean Times. Luckily Jackson was a bit of an obsessive. They were all in order. Tony ripped away their outer sleeves too. Placing the parts he wanted, into the Movie fronts. Soon he had his prizes and was ready to head back to

safety. Although! The Flu made it seem a dauntingly, long, trek.

Jackson sat bolt upright. He listened, unsure of what had awakened him. His eyes strained to see through the blackness.

He heard it again. Throwing his blankets, aside. He grabbed his old Winchester. From a nearby shelf. Jack knew every

nook and cranny of his home. He moved, unerringly, to his bedroom door. A minute later he was on the landing. Like his

son, Jackson could move soundlessly. A second low thud, followed by a soft shuffling, reached his ears. He tightened his

grip on his gun. Of course he couldn't shoot it. The old weapon's firing pin was extremely frail. If he pulled the trigger,

chances were, it would back fire and kill him. But he was pretty sure The sight of the formidable rifle, would be enough.

To scare the 'Bejesus'out of the intruder. Currently robbing his store. Stepping carefully, making no sound, not even

on the, wood wormed, fourth step. Jackson edged down the staircase. At it's base was a shadow. Jackson smiled.

He recognised it and the shape, in it's right hand. .

"Leroy?" he whispered.

"Yeah!"

"You heard it too?"

"The warehouse!" The pair crept forward. Leroy's pistol was an even greater reassurance to Jackson. He doubted, his

son would need to fire it. But it was a whole lot better. Than one, unreliable, Civil War antique. Like his father, Jethro

knew the old house like the back of his hand. In fact the midnight creep, reminded him. Of his Childhood Cookie Stealing Forays. A pale, gaunt figure appeared ahead. Jethro blinked. Then anger consumed him

"TONY!"

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

The Flu

By Kushie

I do not own NCIS: I do not own Anthony Dinozzo, L.J. Gibbs or any other team members.

This story bears no relation to any of my other stories. It is set in a totally different Universe.

Warning Alternate Universe. Many Characters act out of Canon! Don't like don't read.

Minuscule nod to H. .

Major thanks to Downey4President for Beta-ing.

Chapter six

Flashback:

"_The warehouse!" The pair crept forward. Leroy's pistol was an even greater reassurance to Jackson. _

_He doubted his son would need to fire it. But two guns were better than one unreliable Civil War antique. _

_Like his father, Jethro knew the old house like the back of his hand. In fact the midnight creep reminded him of his Childhood Cookie Stealing Forays. As a pale, gaunt figure appeared ahead, Jethro blinked. _

_Then anger consumed him_

"_TONY!"_

Present time:

Tony suppressed the urge to act surprised. He already had a plan, should this situation arise. While at military academy,

he had seen a lot of kids sleepwalk. He knew how they looked and acted. He assumed such a pose.

Luckily, he was still far enough away from his boss to be seen clearly in the darkened passage.

"Tony!" Jethro barked again. But Jackson suddenly put a hand on his arm.

"Leroy! Shush!" Jethro looked puzzled at his father.

"But Dad.."

"Leroy, Look at him! The boy isn't awake. He's not in there - he's got the Wandering Fever." Jethro moved closer

to his Agent and frowned. His dad was right. There was something odd about the way Tony was standing. He was swaying slightly. His eyes were blank and unseeing. Spittle drooled from the side of his mouth.

"Oh God!" Jethro softly moaned. "I knew his temperature was higher than the others'. But I never expected this."

"We will never get him back upstairs without waking him." Jackson whispered. "Which we mustn't do. In his present state, the shock, could kill him."

" The lounge!" Jethro decided. "I've already got a bed made up on the couch." Jack nodded. Until they could be sure Tony's temperature was dropping, he could not be risked upstairs. It was a miracle he hadn't fallen down the steep steps and broken something! So carefully, Jethro and his father guided the fevered patient into the nearby lounge.

Gently, but firmly, they steered him down onto the sofa bed. Jethro lifted his feet up and under the blankets, at the same time laying him flat down. It was then he noticed what Tony was holding. He pulled the magazines out of his convulsive grip.

He shook his head at the covers.

"Even in his sleep Tony lives for his Movies." Jack took the pamphlets and slid them under the settee.

"That's not unusual. It's common for victims of the Wanders to cling to some obscure object." The faking Tony could scarcely believe he was getting away with it. True he was acting his heart out, but even still!

Jethro tucked him in while Jack went up to his room for some more spare blankets. From now until he was better, Tony had to be monitored. He was exhausted and had fallen asleep for real. Jethro made himself up a second bed on a recliner armchair. Jackson climbed back up to his bedroom. Half of him was glad that there hadn't been a burglar.

But he was deeply worried about Tony. He'd seen the Wandering Fever before. Long ago, There'd been a major outbreak. People had thought it was the influenza, back then too. That was until the deaths started. Over a hundred had died, including

his younger sister. That the disease had resurfaced worried him. Especially as it had struck Leroy's boy so hard.  
Jack knew Tony wasn't strong, his mutation aside. He'd had the plague, his lungs were already scarred.

Did he have enough strength left to overcome this new threat? Then Jackson heard it. He shuddered and tried to ignore it - it being, a low, mournful chanting that rose on the wind. The sound of slow, shuffling feet followed. Jack didn't venture to the window. He knew what marched beyond and wanted no part of their evil.

Morning dawned. Jethro decided that all the sick could have beds downstairs during the day. Tim eyed the big one, on the fold out sofa.

"I bags the settee!" he sang out.

"No!" Jethro stopped him from climbing into the newly made bed. "That is for Tony! He needs it the most." The man in question was using Jack's downstairs bathroom. He'd woken later than all the others, but instantly noticed that his Grandpa was even more attentive to him.

Tim scowled as Jethro directed him to a smaller camp bed. He'd been seeing it for months, ever since Christmas - the Boss treated Tony different now. A small niggle of envy rose in Tim's chest. A small part of him wished, he'd been the one to mutate.

Then Jack entered with breakfast. Having the team downstairs was actually a good idea as it saved on Jack and Jethro's legs. Tony exchanged glances with Ziva. For them it was not so good as they couldn't sneakily dump their meals now.  
Tony ate his oatmeal slowly. Hopefully 'Grandpa' would get tired of waiting and take away his bowl. His actions had the opposite effect. Jack only saw that Tony was struggling to eat. Another symptom of the dreaded Wandering Fever, which made him fuss over him even more. Jethro waited until they had all eaten and were settled, then he began distributing thermometers. Tony obediently opened his mouth, knowing there was no way he'd be able to try and fake a lower temperature that morning. Jethro started going around taking the instruments back three minutes later. Jack carried them out to the kitchen and placed them on named cards. Tim and Abby's readings were almost back to normal. Ziva's was dropping too, Tony's was not, his was still rising. The two older men sipped their coffee and softly discussed this. Jack began telling Leroy about the virulent epidemic that had swept through the small town nearly sixty years before. Jethro Gibbs decided to call

Ducky for advice.

In the lounge, the younger ones were talking. Abby was actually recovering and wanted the TV on. The others agreed. Jethro looked alarmed at his father. They had both expected squabbling over what to watch, but the one they'd expected to create the most only lay back on his pillows and closed his eyes. Tony was just tired. The exertion of his nightly jaunt had taken a lot out of him, which again, reinforced the image that he was seriously ill. He had no idea that his little ploy to avoid punishment had frightened his minders.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

The Flu

By Kushie

I do not own NCIS: I do not own Anthony DiNozzo, L.J. Gibbs or any other team members.

This story bears no relation to any of my other stories. It is set in a totally different Universe.

Warning Alternate Universe. Many Characters act out of Canon! Don't like don't read.

Minuscule nod to H. .

Major thanks to Downey4President for Beta-ing.

Chapter Seven

Tim lowered his magazine. Abby and Ziva were both showering, Ziva in the upstairs bathroom and Abby in the lower.

The Boss and his dad were also out of the room. Tim could hear their muted voices in the kitchen. Tony was still asleep. Tim stared across the room at him. He scowled. _"It's not fair that Gibbs likes him the best! I'm twenty times smarter! Tony's just a mutant dumb-ass!"_  
Quite suddenly, Tim saw an opportunity to make Tony appear stupid, a way to lower his status in the eyes of the two seniors and get revenge. For all the years he suffered from Tony's annoying pranks. Moving quietly he slipped from his camp bed. He picked up his cold Honey and Lemon then tip-toed across to Tony's bed. Tony was still feverish and had pushed back his covers. With one eye one the door, Tim inched the quilt back a little further. Tony coughed and snorted on some phlegm in his throat. Tim froze… but the SFA didn't wake. Confident he was getting away with it, Tim carefully poured a liberal measure of the beverage onto the bed, between Tony's splayed legs. Then he pulled the blankets back over the somnolent man. He

scurried back to his own bed. Abby was just entering so he pretended he'd just finished his mug. He made a great show of smacking his lips and putting it on the floor. Ziva was returning too. Tim reached out and lifted his magazine back up. Behind it he smirked.

"_Gibbs will think Tony has wet the bed. Mutant boy won't be flavor of the month much longer."_ Tim's gleamed with amusement.  
This was one he was going to milk for years to come. It rated right up there, with the time Tony had snogged the Lady Man.

But in the kitchen, Jethro and his father were discussing Tony and comparing his symptoms with the epidemic of sixty years before.

"If I remember rightly, the sickness affected the kidneys," Jack said sipping his coffee. "Many of the patients became incontinent before the end and…" his eyes became moist. "My sister suffered something awful. She got sores and swellings all over her body." Jethro shivered. He hoped against hope that Tony was strong enough to fight the disease.

Just an hour before, there had been a news report. The government was ordering mass vaccinations and initiating quarantine procedures. People had started dying from the flu. But was it just a virulent strain of influenza or something much worse? Scientists were testing bacterial samples, examining corpses, which were then burned. There had been a similar outbreak in

Pennsylvania in the early 1950's. Back then fear had gripped the government. All reports of the disease and mortality rates had been suppressed. But that had been a small localized event. The new outbreak was bigger and spread across the country. Steps had to be taken to prevent it from becoming a World Pandemic.

Tony turned over. Something was off. Still groggy from sleep, it was several seconds before he realized.

"Oh God!" He cried out in shock and leapt from his bed just as the two senior dashed in. Tony stared aghast at Gibbs.

"I'm so sorry! I-I Don't know how it happened. Jethro glanced down. Tony's pyjama pants had a widely spread wet stain, adorning them. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" He looked to the make shift bed on the sofa. The covers were thrown back, revealing a second yellowing damp area." Jethro moved forward. Tony was distraught, embarrassed and virtually crying.

He was also starting to shiver. Jack inhaled against the terror that cramped his stomach. He took control.

"Leroy! Take the boy upstairs! Get him cleaned up and into some dry pyjamas."

"Grandpa Jack..." Tony was beyond contrite. "I'm so-so sorr..."

"It's all right lad, you couldn't help it. You've got the Wandering Fever."

Across the room Tim's face turned a funny color as his plan to humiliate DiNozzo backfired. Instead of making him look stupid, he'd actually made his condition seem worse, earning Tony even more attention. Tim seethed. He couldn't even speak out and say he was responsible and had been playing a prank, as that would land him in trouble. Abby and Ziva, eyes wide with fear, huddled their own blankets to their chins. Tony was still apologizing.

"I've ruined your settee, Grandpa."

"No you ain't son. I kind of expected this. When I remade the sofa after breakfast I put a plastic sheet under the lower cover." This slightly mollified Tony, enough for Jethro to guide him up the stairs to the bathroom, where he ran the mortified Albino a hot bath. Tony was actually glad of it. He was so cold his teeth were chattering. The warm water and steamy atmosphere drove the chill from his bones.

By the time Gibbs walked him back downstairs, clad in fresh clothes, Jack had remade his bed. Even still Tony blushed to the roots of his hair as the others stared at him. He was glad to slide back into the newly made bed. Jack tucked a refilled hot water bottle in with him. Tony hugged it to his chest, while Tim silently ground his teeth together in frustration.

Once Tony was resettled and finally calm, Jethro and Jack made all the patients more hot drinks and even encouraged them to eat some buttered toast.

Jethro watched Tony and gave a small relieved sigh as even he managed to eat some, albeit only half a slice. Still it was a small gain. So long as they could keep Tony eating they had a chance to help him beat the dreaded Fever.

Abby in an attempt to try and ease Tony's discomfort asked if she could put the main television on. Jack was careful to ensure that he tuned it to a movie channel. Tony was in bad enough state. Neither he nor Leroy wanted the boy to see any news reports. If he got frightened it could further weaken him.

Tony wanted to run away and hide. He felt under the couch for the stack of magazines he'd succeeded in acquiring the night before. At least he could hide behind one of them. He casually opened the top one on his stack to the secret inner pages, running his eye of the index to find the article he wanted. The original issue he'd read had been fairly vague.

Tony hoped the next one would go into greater detail. He felt a low thud.

Vinni had been out mooching around Jack's expansive back garden, but it had started to rain and so now the half cat sought out the warmth and loving arms of his master. Without knowing he was giving as much comfort as he got. Tony rubbed the long haired mog under the chin, making him purr. Then his eyes saw the title of the report he wanted. Alongside it was a page number. Tony looked over the top of the periodical. Tim was now well enough to start surfing on his laptop.

Ziva and Abby were sharing a single bed and covers and watching a chick flick. Leroy and his father were sitting at a table through an open arch. Tony could see they were deep in discussion. He hoped it wasn't about him. Desperate for some distraction form his woes, Tony wiped his nose on a dry tissue turned to the numbered page and began reading

"_The Curse of Kali's Cult_

_Their numbers are many, their ways secretive, their Acolytes selected with care. Only those with particular views are drawn into their midst.  
Adherents must swear allegiance to a Dark Deity, bow before a bloodied snake entwined Effigy of Evil._"

Tony rubbed at a sore on his arm. Jethro was walking by and noticed it, as Tony raised his sleeve to quell the ache. He quickened his pace to the lower bathroom. He was back at Tony's bedside a minute later with a bottle of soothing liquid.

"How many other sores have you got Tony?"

"A couple on my chest and one under my left arm I think." Jack leaned over too. His brow furrowed with worry. But both he and Leroy strove not to alarm DiNozzo. They just dabbed all the spots with the healing ointment. The pain alleviated and Tony resumed reading.

"_Slowly, insidiously, the tendrils of this diabolical cult are spreading across the nation, reaching out, ensnaring others, infiltrating high office, growing ever stronger and more deeply entrenched. But always watchful, wary about revealing their true intentions before the time is right."_

Tony's study was interrupted by the two Gibbs entering with lunch trays.

But not far away - unseen and alone - she touched the Graven Image she wore beneath her clothes, reveling in the chaos and discord it stood for. It felt warm against her skin. Her fingers drifted lower, seeking the knotted cord entwined around her waist.  
She gave a mirthless smile as she recalled how her latest victim had squirmed and fought - just before he breathed his last.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

The Flu

By Kushie

I do not own NCIS: I do not own Anthony DiNozzo, L.J. Gibbs or any other team members.

This story bears no relation to any of my other stories. It is set in a totally different Universe.

Alternate Universe. Many Characters act out of Canon! Don't like - don't read.

Warning: This chapter is a bit harrowing.

Minuscule nod to H. .

Major thanks to Downey4President for Beta-ing.

Chapter Eight

Tony stared down at the bowl in front of him. His throat had gone from being like a graveled path to something much worse. The left side was swollen and swallowing was excruciating, but worse: Tony could feel tightness in the right, indicating the glands on that side were swelling as well. He had ear ache too and God, he was burning up! Jethro turned from laying a tray across Abby's knees. He frowned as he saw Vinni sniffing at Tony's bowl. He walked over and lifted the robot/cat hybrid off the couch.

"He can get back up when you've finished," he said, firmly pointing to Tony's soup as he hadn't even picked up his spoon yet. "Come on Tony! I know your throat hurts but you've got to try." Tim paused with his spoon half way to his mouth. He was beginning to feel a little bit guilty. Tony was really ill and his earlier spite could have made him worse. Tim wished he hadn't let his jealousy get the upper hand. Tony didn't deserve it. Yes, the older agent had played a few pranks and some were annoying but that didn't excuse his actions! Tony had been through enough.

Even Abby, who was Gibbs favorite, seemed to understand that Tony needed the extra coddling. The Quantum Mutation was just one thing in a whole series of events that had steadily drained him of his strength - strength he now needed.

Jack's attempts at preventing his patients from learning the truth about the disease hadn't been entirely successful. While flipping through the channels, looking for another film to watch, Ziva had inadvertently caught a News Report.

Tony had been napping so didn't know, but the other three did. Tim was being eaten up with terrified guilt. He had never been religious but that day, for the first time ever, Tim prayed, prayed for Tony.

Night fell. The two girls and Tim were dispatched back to their normal beds upstairs. Tony was not - he had to remain under supervision. Gibbs and his father were anxious to prevent a repeat of the previous night's wandering. It was vital now that Tony be kept warm. He lay propped up on pillows, his chest was too congested for him to lie flat. Jethro was concerned about the harsh cough he had developed.

Vinni was once again on the bed. The cat seemed to sense something was wrong and now refused to leave his master's side. Just before retiring Jackson softly ran a hand through Tony's hair, noting the sweat beaded brow.

"Good night son! Goodnight Leroy!" he said before heading for the stairs and his own room. Within minutes Gibbs had begun snoring. Tony lay awake for several hours. He was unable to get comfortable - He was hot! He pushed back his blankets in an effort to cool down - to no avail. He was drenched in sweat and shaking, heat burned all over his body.

But what was worse was the fact that no matter which way he tried to lie on, phlegm clogged in his throat, making it harder and harder to breathe. Then: "Uh Uh!" Tony panicked, his heart beat increased, he couldn't inhale! It was as if his diaphragm refused to expand. He sat bolt upright and rolled from the couch to his knees. He tried to suck in some air, but his lungs wouldn't respond. The blood thundered in his ears and his eyes strained in their sockets. Black edges began to seep across his vision… His mouth opened and closed soundlessly. He stretched out a desperate hand towards his oblivious sleeping boss… Vinni began to hiss and mew. He bounded across the room and sank his teeth into the sleeping Gibbs's shoulder. He gave a loud screech of pain and rolled over. "DiNozzo!"

As he sat up his anger faded. He stared uncomprehendingly at the purple faced, pop eyed man reaching out for him, and then his wits returned. Gibbs threw back his quilt and switching on the light, leapt from his bed. He knew what he was seeing, his father had warned him. Tony was in crisis! The disease had reached its peak. This was the moment. He'd either succumb or recover. Jethro's insides curdled. He could tell Tony was slowly suffocating. Gibbs reached Tony as he recalled his father's words.

"If it follows the same way in Tony as it did all those years ago, his chest muscles will lock. He'll need a sudden shock, something to make him inhale." Jethro had only one idea. He raised his hand and walloped him hard across the back of his head. The sudden explosion of pain jerked Tony upright. He automatically yelped in pain, sucking in a massive lungful of oxygen at the same time, then he began to vomit. Jethro had been expecting this too. All the mucus and gunk that had been accumulating in Tony's lungs began to fountain upward. Jethro had a pail ready to catch the surge. Tony moaned as the gushing burned his sore throat, but he couldn't stop the rising tide. His stomach contracted over and over, clearing his insides as it continued heaving for a full minute after the river of slime had ceased.

"Easy son! Just relax now, it's almost over." Gradually the episode started to subside. Tony was soaked in sweat but he was no longer hot. Goose bumps erupted all over his body and he was shivering.

Jethro wrapped a blanket around him, then steered him over to his bed and sat him down, enfolding the shaking younger man in his arms. He stroked the damp hair from his eyes.

In an effort to release some of the tension in the room he softly joked "You do realize that damn cat of yours bit me." Tony tried to smile. In a hoarse whisper he said "I think he just saved my life."

"Indeed!" Gibbs put out a hand and rubbed the still mewing cat under its chin. "Good Boy! Good boy!" he praised. Tony sighed. As he did so, he heard it - coming from outside was a low rhythmic chanting and the soft shuffling of many feet. Jethro leaned sideways and flicked off the light. Tony frowned at this action.

"Boss? Who are they? I saw them the other night. I thought it was a bad dream back then."

Jethro tightened his arms around him and keeping his voice low and instructed: "Never speak of them DiNozzo. Never study them, or even think about them."

"What? Why?"

"Trust me son, you want no part of their evil."

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

The Flu

By Kushie

I do not own NCIS: I do not own Anthony DiNozzo, L.J. Gibbs or any other team members.

This story bears no relation to any of my other stories. It is set in a totally different Universe.

Warning: Alternate Universe. Many Characters act out of Canon! Don't like don't read.

Minuscule nod to H. .

Major thanks to Downey4President for Beta-ing.

Chapter Nine

Jethro sat beside Tony for the rest of the night. He dozed a few times but didn't really sleep.

He was nervous, anxious in case Tony relapsed. But he didn't! By the time Jack came down to breakfast Tony's fever had broken. Jethro sat and related the events of the dark hours to his father.

"I didn't know what else do dad. I didn't want to hurt him..." Jack patted his hand

"You did what had to be done Jethro." He glanced through the arch to the lounge where

Tony lay. He was awake but not sitting up. Vinni was with him, clearly enjoying some special chin-rubs-time with his master. Jethro scratched the spot where Vinni had bitten him and Jackson gave a low chuckle.

"Reckon that Cat was the best present I ever bought." Jethro nodded then the others came down for breakfast.

Tony didn't even think about it. He was suddenly very hungry. Three days with virtually no food had put an edge to his returning appetite and his porridge disappeared in double quick time, which made both Jethro and his father smile. Tim was not so obliging.

"Jack, I'm really sick of porridge and my throat doesn't hurt anymore. Please can I have some bacon and eggs?"

"Not yet, lad!" Jack said calmly. Tim pouted but had no choice. He had to eat his porridge like the others. Abby was feeling a lot better. She had practically recovered. Jack gave her a warm

"Thank you!" as she collected all the soiled dishes and stacked them in the sink before she returned to the lounge to discover that Tony had recovered sufficiently to start disputing hers and Ziva's choice of TV. Jethro smiled at their squabbles, relieved his kids were all going to survive, but then he sighed.

"Tony! Back into bed! You are not well enough to start running about."

"But Ziva's got the remote..."

Jethro didn't argue, he just pointed to the sofa and Tony gave a sullen 'humph' then obediently climbed back into the sofa bed. Ziva gave a triumphant smile, which evaporated a second later as Jethro took the remote from her and flicked the TV to a neutral channel, forcing his brood to watch his choice and quelling any further debate.

Silence descended. Jackson and Jethro watched the patients from the arched dining room.

Tony had drifted off to sleep within ten minutes after climbing back into bed. This was a good thing as sleep facilitated healing.

Tim was playing on his laptop and the girls, again sharing a bed, quietly watched the television.

At lunch Jackson had relented slightly. Instead of chicken soup or vegetable broth, he made a cheese quiche with chunks of bacon in it, baked potatoes in their jackets and a diligently chopped salad completed the meal.

Vinni was exploring. He snuffled around the old boxes and strange metal tubs, then an exciting sniff made his nose twitch and his ears prick up. A sudden movement to his left attracted his attention. A long buried piece of programming suddenly rose in his mind. An ancient instinct. Vinni crouched, his tail swished excitedly and his rear wriggled. His breathing quickened. His heart pounded with excitement. His eyes followed the scuttler. Vinni inhaled then pounced.

In the lounge lunch was over. Jethro and Jackson had just cleared away the remains and returned to the lounge, when there was a loud crash.

"That's the store room!" Jethro and his father leapt to their feet. Curious the four invalids cautiously followed.

A second crash echoed up the passage followed by a yowling and the sound of scampering feet.

"That's Vinni!" Tony cried out in alarm. Jack pushed open the door to his store room. Tony's half cat was charging along a precariously balanced shelf. It gave away sending down jars and packets clattering to the floor. But the cat seemed oblivious to the destruction. His mind was focused on just one thing.

"What's he doing?" Tony panicked. "His programming must have gone haywire, Boss!"

"There's nothing wrong with his programming DiNozzo!" Jethro said sardonically. "I'd say he's doing exactly what he's supposed to." Abby had sidled in. She saw the fleeing mouse. Quick as a flash she grabbed an old saucepan hanging from a hook and slammed it down over the terrified rodent. Jackson grabbed Vinni. The cat struggled in his arms.

The old man stroked and soothed him.

"Now, ain't you a fine chap, clearing out the Vermin." He praised the cat then handed it to Tony. "Why don't you take this mog of yours back to the lounge while Leroy and I deal with little Mickey," he indicated the saucepan Abby still held tight to the floor. As soon as Tony and the others had left Jackson shut the door, then got a pan lid from a second hook. Carefully, making sure the mouse didn't escape, he slid it under the upturned pot. Once safely contained Jethro took the mouse still in the pan, down to the very bottom of his father's long garden and released it.

In the lounge Tony was beaming with pride. Jackson had to smile. Tony was loudly boasting of Vinni prowess and insisting: "He would have caught that rat, if you hadn't saved it Abby!" Jackson chuckled.

"But is he going to straighten out the chaos he's caused in my lower store." Tony blushed at this making them all laugh.

Jethro and his father tidied up while the others returned to their beds. Jackson was highly amused. Jethro was astonished that a toy cat had been so exquisitely programmed.

"There's more to that animal than we ever thought." his father said "And I suspect that before long you will need his special skills again."

"What do you mean Dad?"

"Oh! Don't you pay any heed to the ramblings of an old fool like me." Gibbs grinned but somewhere at the back of his mind a little alarm bell rang.

The rest of the day passed without major incident. Although now he was on the mend, Tony's playful personality was re-emerging. Tim grimaced as a third jibe was aimed at him. Jethro tutted and leaning over the back of the sofa, gently but firmly tapped Tony across the back of the head. As a warning not to push it, Tim put the other man out of his mind and logged onto his secret account. His heart leapt: he had a message! A special message just for him. He smiled at the sender's avatar. A week before he'd got sick, she'd actually sent him a physical model of her effigy, although she'd warned him to keep it secret. It was special! Just between them. Tim was half looking forward to getting home so he could hold it and feel a part of the glorious future she had promised him.

Over the next three days the team steadily improved and by the end of the second week, they were all once again fit. It was their last night in Stillwater. Tony rolled over on the couch. He had never returned to the upstairs, not that he minded.

Being near Gibbs was somehow comforting. Tony felt protected by his presence.

He felt movement near his feet.

Vinni was awake too, his hair was standing up on end and his tail swished from side to side.

Tony knew what was upsetting him. The cloaked people were walking again.

He slid softly to the window and still wary of being seen, peered out of a crack in the curtain.

A full moon came out from behind a cloud. Tony gasped! The sudden shift of light illuminated a very familiar face. Then he jumped as a hand on his shoulder pulled him back into the dark room.

"No Tony!" Gibbs said. "Don't even look! I don't want them to cast their evil shadow over you."

Outside the illuminated acolyte gave a mirthless grin. She knew who dwelt within the Mercantile. Lorraine Morrow schemed "You will pay for spurning me Jethro Gibbs! I already hold sway over the youngest of your people. Soon the others will feel the Knot of Kali about their throats."

FIN


End file.
